The air in the control room at the Third Department’s Haidian compound in Beijing was thick with tobacco smoke and the hum of computer consoles. A dozen tired technicians typed away, eager to give the major-general the impression that they were still alert, even after seventy-two odd hours on the job. Several of them had been asleep at their terminals when the major-general had walked in. They were now fearful of the trajectory of their various PLA careers. The time on the digital wall clock read 7.08 AM.
The major-general looked pissed. He had stormed in demanding to have an answer to the niggling problem of the network intrusion which had been discovered the day before. Hundreds of man hours after the initial discovery, they were still none the wiser. And Lieutenant Liu’s future was looking even more precarious than theirs. That fact was becoming increasingly apparent. The younger technicians watched from the corner of their eyes as the lieutenant, pale-faced and blotchy-skinned through lack of sleep, veins throbbing violently in his neck, tried to explain to the major-general the technical details of why they were not making progress in detecting the source of the network intrusions. Yet, the major-general was only interested in the solution not the mechanics. His bulky uniformed frame just stood there like an immovable object, puffing away on his cigarette, his eyes dangerously fixed on the lieutenant.
“Sir, the intruder seems to be rewriting the network code to avoid detection. This makes it impossible to detect,” Lieutenant Liu offered weakly. He was rapidly approaching the point where he didn’t really care if the major-general fired him on the spot. He just wanted to go home, make peace with his wife and fall asleep.
“You are telling me that with millions of New China Yuan of intrusion detection AIs, state-of-the-art ICE and the fact that you can see every bit and byte that is generated on the system using this very fancy and very expensive equipment of yours that you have no idea who the intruder is and what they are doing?” the major-general howled, pointing his burning cigarette at the numerous displays showing the life signs of the system and its subjects.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Liu said simply, feeling the energy to try to explain drain out of him.
The major-general was visibly taken aback by Lieutenant Liu’s apathy. He tried to speak but the words stuck in his throat. In the blink of an eye, it seemed that his entire blood supply rushed to his fleshy face. The major-general was about to explode into a torrent of rage when his cell phone rang. A deathly silence descended on the room.
“Speak,” the major-general commanded. Some internal calming technique had been applied and the storm seemed to have resided temporarily.
“It’s me. The student was in Hong Kong meeting up with some Russian.”
“And you have him?” The look on the major-general’s face suggested that this was not a question but a statement. However, this was lost on the assassin who was not physically present.
“No. Had him in my sights but lost him.”
“Lost him? What the hell do you mean lost him? Is everyone in the PLA incompetent?” the major-general roared, the storm threatening to rage again in a violent explosion of thunder and lightning. The men in the room flinched. Yet, the assassin’s voice remained calm.
“He’s gone. It was lucky that I even found him given the circumstances. At any rate, he was in Hong Kong doing a deal with some Russian to sell a computer chip.”
“Computer chip?” The major-general’s face turned from red to a pale white in the blink of an eye as the blood drained from his face. His whole world seemed to be collapsing around him. Professor Yao’s actions in going to New York had set in motion a veritable domino effect that was threatening to bring down one of the PLA’s most remarkable careers. Everything that he had dreamed off was now in the balance. Everything. For the first time in his career, major-general Wang started to suspect that he would not be able to bring the current spate of events under effective control.
“Yes, I have a Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank safety deposit slip that the student left. The man he was transacting with was one Oleg Krachev, according to his passport. Recently deceased I am afraid. Collateral damage,” the assassin said without emotion.
“Oleg Krachev,” the major-general repeated to himself. The name sounded familiar and the utterance of it was merely a query to the vast database of information stored in his brain. Oleg Krachev. The answer came in a split second. The Moscow Institute of Supercomputing. Purchasing. Professor Yao had fabricated a second chip and the student Li Jin was trying to sell it to the Russian. On the professor’s orders?
“Yes. What do you want me to do with the slip?”
“Destroy it. I’ll arrange to get the chip back directly.”
“There is another thing. The Russian had with him a wireless international credit transfer unit. He had just transferred a large sum of money to Li Jin so it’s just a matter of tracing the movement of the money to find him.”
“Leave that to me. And the other one? This Caldwell character?”
“The AIs are now talking about Shanghai.”
“Shanghai. Are you sure?” The major-general’s worst nightmares were coming true. Yet, once the quarry was in Shanghai wouldn’t resolution of that problem be merely academic? The enemy was walking of its own accord into the dragon’s lair. It was a twisted manifestation of Fool the emperor to cross the sea, yet the end result would be the same. Death and destruction.
“Positive. Beijing too but the probabilities on Shanghai are sky high.”
“The Joplin girl?”
“Still Tokyo. She seems to be leaving a trail. The AIs provided a hotel, room number. That one will be easy. I will be in Tokyo by mid afternoon as per your instructions.”
“No failures this time, it doesn’t become you.”
“Yes, failure is something totally new to me. Not something I would like to repeat.”
“You have served me well but my patience has limits. Understand?” the major-general asked the assassin. Lieutenant Liu busy perusing code on a nearby terminal could not help but feel that the same ultimatum applied to him.
“This time there will be no failure,” the assassin said simply.
The major-general hung up and turned his attention to Lieutenant Liu. The lieutenant stood up shakily and mentally braced himself to bear the brunt of the major-general’s ire. He was surprised when it didn’t come but what the major-general said was much worse.
“You have thirty minutes to get ready. We are going to Shanghai?”
“Shanghai, but ...” Lieutenant Liu muttered. His face had turned a sickly shade of gray. He looked like he was about to have a psychotic episode. His marriage was surely over. His currency with Major-general Wang had declined dramatically in value. His body was about to give in. He suspected his blood pressure was sky high.
“Yes, maybe in Shanghai you’ll have better luck doing your job. First, I want you to put Hongqiao and Pudong airports, train stations and ports on high alert. Whoever is intruding in our systems is on their way to Shanghai and we are going to catch them.” This observation had no effect on Lieutenant Liu. His eyes had grown wild. His mind was broken with fatigue and his hands just hung loosely at his sides. He didn’t even feel he would have the energy to pick up the telephone. Yet, he knew that he had no choice but to continue on this crazy mission.
“Yes, sir.”
“The AI will be shipped to Shanghai later today. On a different flight of course. We’ll perform the reconfiguration of it there and oversee its insertion. It’s important that these tests are completed without further delay. Once that is done you’ll get your sleep,” the major-general promised without conviction. It was nothing but hollow lip service. Nothing mattered but the network and the successful insertion of the AI.
Lieutenant Liu was now sure of it. The major-general was crazy, crazy beyond belief. That chain smoking had obviously given him a tumor in the brain, causing him to think and behave irrationally. All this for some stupid network, which the deranged man believed would make him a hero in New China. So what if it was the cutting edge? It was totally within the realms of possibility that if any of this nonsense came to light the major-general could be court-martialed for misappropriating government funds into a secret project that was not government-approved. The new technology was amazing, a world first. It ushered in a new paradigm, one with limitless possibilities that would give New China the edge. And once the AI was unleashed into cyberspace, the West would never be able to recover from the repercussions of a China-led singularity. Yet, the motivations behind the major-general’s full on charge into the future made him blind to the realities of the people who worked for him, and the fact that they had families and lives to go home to. The lieutenant knew that giving up was not an option. He knew too much and would surely be killed if he insisted on quitting.
In a perverse way, despite the fact that he hadn’t slept properly for seventy-two hours, the lieutenant was thankful for the network intruder. The intrusion had proved that the system was fallible and that AIs were not as powerful as all that. All thirty-six intrusion detection AIs had failed to stop the intruder, suggesting a hacker of unparalleled ability. Could it be that the intruder was this Cad Caldwell character, the one that Kenzo Yamamoto had sent the console to? If so, he was a worthy adversary. Yet, if he went to Shanghai he would surely be caught. The trap would be sprung tight. But if the hacker was smart enough to infiltrate the system from outside Shanghai and remain undetected, then he might just be smart enough to avoid detection in the physical world. Anyway, that wasn’t his problem. His problem was the major-general and now was the time to give him the good news. The other piece of bad news to follow would have to be perfectly timed.
“Thank you, sir. We do have one piece of good news. The report on the bugs on the Yamaguchi-gumi has some interesting items. First, they know about the Joplin girl’s presence in Tokyo and they failed to retrieve the console because the girl was snatched.” Lieutenant Liu was leaving the biggest bombshell till last.
“Snatched? By who?”
“They reckon it was an outfit they referred to as HYDRA.”
“HYDRA? Fuck your mother.” It wasn’t an insult to the lieutenant, just an outlet for the major-general’s mounting exasperation.
“The good news is that the Yakuza don’t have the console,” Lieutenant Liu offered.
“You dimwit! If HYDRA has the console that is orders of magnitude worse. Don’t you get it? If they know about the existence of that console what do you think the chances are that they know about the other console, the one in the possession of the hacker? And isn’t it possible that they are behind the intrusion attempt, which you so ineptly can’t figure out.” All this screamed by the major-general in a fury of spittle and breath pregnant with nicotine.
“Sorry sir.”
“Fuck your mother and your apologies. Better make sure the Contingency Plan is in place and hope we don’t have to use it. If HYDRA is involved then the game is truly over for us.”
Lieutenant Liu was livid beyond description. Now was the time.
“Yes sir. You must also know that Minister Takahashi has ordered your death.” Lieutenant Liu visibly shuddered as he delivered this piece of information. For the first time ever, he saw what he had always known was true. Within every man, even those who wielded incredible power, was an insecure individual waiting to be exposed. The look on Major-general Wang’s blood-drained face was one of unmistakable fear.